


Trollhunters Writing Dump

by Spitfire_the_wounded



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Anyways, Gen, I’ll also be posting updates about my other fics and their status, There’s some sex now I guess, Wha the fuck keyboard, Where I’ll post when I Finnish sIDE one shots, Words, here, ive been getting ideas and I can’t stop writing, this is pretty much where I’ll dump my Trollhunters oneshots, why did I do this I’m supposed to be wORKING ON GODDAMN FANFICS, will add as I go on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spitfire_the_wounded/pseuds/Spitfire_the_wounded
Summary: This is pretty mufh where I’ll dump my trollhunters oneshots And fic status updates; Also the link to my blog where you can poke me  if you want. I’ll be taking requests too, but don’t expect them to be done too quickly; I work at a pace that can properly be described as glacial and I’m also working on my other fic. Expect to see a lot of world exspansion and concept building, and Character writing practice, and Oc’s, and oneshots involving my other fic; its just a writing dump.





	1. Getting started

Holy shit you actually found this good enough to read. Well, I’ll start with a welcome..... welcome, and now I guess I just tell you about the update schedule?

there is no schedule. I’m just winging it. All day. Every day. Though you can expect actual content to be here soon, as soon as I get one of these things done that is... woop I guess.

Anyways.. yea this is just a dump for my trollhunters shit, feel free to stay for the dumpster fire.


	2. Doing the heat thing, Aj style: trollmarket rush.P1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been writing some stuff about my oc in heat. I haven’t posted anything in a while, so I figured I’d post this.

Rough stony hands ran hungirly along flushed leathery hide, eliciting needy whines and whimpers from the smaller being pinned against the wall. A young bull was rhythmically rutting his clothed girth against Aj’s groin, groaning and growling in ecstasy as the potent Omega pheromones flooded his senses and put him at the mercy of his instincts.

Crude whispers of an older trollish were shared with intertwining breaths as brows needily pressed into each other, stone horns clinking against glassy antlers as they absently searched each other’s hearts for _something_ . _anything_. Some sort of personal connection between themselves, even if it was just a fleeting sliver of recognition.

This was what trolls call “ **Toht Yaghnul** ”, or rutt concenting. It was an old instinct deep within the trollish brain that kept rutting Alphas and pheromone wafting omegas and betas from constantly throwing themselves at, or forcing themselves on, one another. There had to be a connection between the mating pair, something to prove that their future mate would stuck around to care for the whelp and the carrier.

This connection would usually be found though scent, with the familiarity and emotions raised with it; But it could also be found in the act of knocking brows together if the nose was too clogged with pheromones to properly scent out anything. It’s the fastest method really, since brow bumping briefly connects the heart and mind of two and allows the brain to get a sense of the connection faster. It doesn’t usually take too long to pop up.

Especially not this long.

Not unless there isn’t one.

The two suddenly separated, the fledgling bull with a disappointed keen and Aj with a pained whine as they slumped against the wall with shaking legs. The champion took a moment to catch their breath, their face and body flushed magenta and uncomfortably hot.

A weird feeling had begun to pool in their gut throughout the encounter, and had been building up until their groin felt like it was going to combust. It was too overwhelming, too much for them to handle; But when the other- _‘Gimehr’,_ a faint voice in their mind spoke -finally pulled away, it only filled them with mild irritation and a desperate aching need for _something._

Whenever they shifted, they felt a jolt go up their spine as whatever had appeared between their legs grazed against the wet fabric of their pants. maybe it was also the cause of the sticky uncomfortable wetness that coated their thighs?

Whatever it was, when it brushed against their pants it made the aching feeling come back, and the partling’s irritation spiked again as their gaze fell on the troll youth in front of them.

Gimehr was built like the average gumgum soldier, large and sturdy looking with flat feet and an upright standing posture. His horns- a crown of dark smokey marble -shone in the dim light of the crystals within the alleyway they were in, along with his rocky purple-ish grey skin.

His gaze on them was.. unsettling.

He was kneeling against the wall opposite of them, catching his breath and practically eating them alive with just the hunger swimming in his intense glassy eyes. a look of shock painted his face as he realized what he had just seen.

“ **T-tu’la-“**

“ **Avlar teh chak. Teh ela lu’Gumgum gehriit, abu aat ela Sechrr’m agn. Neh guaa’iir, hessk.”**

Gimehr joined them on the ground, his gaze still sticking to them like glue. He chuckled huskily, sitting against the wall and slipping back into english as he further spoke “ **Fiir dehg la’gumgum** , **tu’la tr** ollish is terrible.”

Aj didn’t let their guard down; they didn’t like the way he was staring at them. Though to be fair, it was probably the pheromones.

Still.

“It’s not bad. It’s old. I’m old. Too old for you.”

With that they were up and sprinting away, leaving the young troll gazing amazedly at their retreating form. He continued to stare as they fell gracefully onto all fours mid-step, and smiled when they finally ran out of sight.

“Too old, huh?”

_**—————————** _


	3. Bound to my past mistakes and tied to my eternal aches; a Bond so strong it never yields to war part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a month after Bular killed Aj, and a week or so after their meant-to-be-brief return to Arcadia, Bular sees the partling walking around— clearly alive and not dead —and freaks out. He decides to confront them on the matter(read: fight them out of confusion and frustration until both of them grow too tired or injured to move, then have a semi-civil conversation as the high of battle settles) and the two rekindle an old bond long forgotten over revelations, and stories of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know if ill finish this, but i really wanted to post it so here you go

Bular was a troll who thought he had a fair understanding of how the world worked.

Most trolls are burned by the sun. Heartstones come from fallen mountain trolls. Grass is green because the light reflecting off of it makes it look that way, also something about chlorophyll. Gum gums eat humans. Water isn’t wet(apparently) because water wets things, and it cannot wet itself.  All things have a beginning, all things have an end.

You are born, you live, and you die.

So there was no surprise when the sight of the former Trollhunter— whom he himself _killed_ —staggering out of the brush surprised him to the point of stumbling backward into a nearby ditch.

It wasn’t his proudest moment, he will admit, But he wasn’t entirely concerned with his image at the moment.

He was more focused on the fact that _the trollhunter was alive._

_Aj_ was **_alive_ **.

After he **_killed_ ** them.

**_The amulet even chose another champion._ **

He couldn’t believe it. He **wouldn’t** believe it.

Perhaps that polymorph was up to his impure— _‘changeling.’_ their distant voice echoed in his head, as it had many times since their death —nonsense again. Taking the form of the old trollhunter and running about to toy with his mind and emotions. it wouldn’t be the first time that infernal headache did such things.

With this in mind, he shook the rubble from his mane and clambered up the side, hefting himself out with both hands and looking around. The impure- _changeling_ looked to be just as startled as he had been, his eyes wide and flicking about in search of the noise the troll had surely made with his fall. His gaze finally flicked to Bular when he growled lowly at the other **“im— changeling. you dare toy with my mind?”**

He expected the scoundrel to freeze. to stutter. to immediately cease this trickery in well learned fear of being torn limb from limb and eaten alive. But he instead got a playful glare and a smirk from the other. The Aj look alike grinned with their odd yellowed teeth and split lip, deep green eyes dancing with the mysterious familiarity they always seemed to hold around him “hey Bular, missed me? I sure missed you.”

He was taken aback by the complete lack of fear or even tension in their face and tone, their relaxed posture and visible ease despite his body language and clear warnings. They— he even had one eye closed,  his thumbs hooked loosely on the hem of his skirt in a gesture he's grown to recognize as the tar- partling's.

He shook his head free of the shock, and narrowed a glare at the imposter “do not believe me a _fool_ , changeling.” He snuffed “cease this trickery **immediately**. Or would you rather I tear the glamour off you with my bare hands?”

At this point the polymorph would normally shift back, blabbering on in that irritatingly timid tone of his and acting as if he had simply played a lighthearted joke on the gumgum. Then Bular would get fed up, and choke him until he managed to weasel his way out of an early death like always.

But no, they simply chuckled and viewed him with a playful softness that rung a few dusty bells in his mind “aww. is that any way to act toward a freind, **_whel’jarook_ **?”  

_That name…_

A long forgotten memory rose to the surface of his mind; something from before, someone with a similar face.

Something warm. something… something from a softer time..

————

_“But you and father raised me, Gave me everything I have and- and I still maimed you without honor or reason…” he looked down at his feet in shame, an embarrassed orangey yellow tinting the dark glass that made up his cheeks. If his coloring had been any lighter, his face would’ve been comparable to the dying rays of a dusk horizon._

_Young Bular had earlier been sparring with Ahoi'vaiune, and had lost many times as expected when one so young was sparring with the nearly undefeatable ex-general of the gumgum armies and legend champion of their ancient one. He had grown angry and embarrassed at his many failures, and even more so frustrated at Ahoi'Vaiune’s unwavering good sportsmanship; so he struck them across the back when they had turned to amble over to the water holders._

_He’d been properly scolded for going against the code of honour, as well as leaving one of their best warriors unable to fight by breaking a few important bones in their back. His father had sent him to apologize to them, but they had voiced heir forgiveness the moment he walked in._

_“Yes, and that was bad. But I understand why you did it, and how you were feeling at the time; so I forgive you. ” They smiled at him, patting their lap and wincing from the movement “now come. sit.”_

_He hesitated, but obliged; walking over to their cot and gently clambering onto their lap. When he was settled, they wrapped their arms around him and placed their chin comfortably on the crown of his head “The one thing Orlagk could never hope to smother was my empathy,” they chuckled “it is what allowed me to form the connection I have with your father all those centuries ago, and it is what allows me to forgive you now.”_

_“I want you to know that I'll always try to be there for you; that even when you break my bones and curse my name I'll be here to help, for it is my nature. You are my family. You are my friend. You are my charge. You are close to me in my heart. I care for those who are close to me, and I help those who I care for. Do you understand what I am saying?”_

_Bular nodded, snuggling into his friend with a quiet purr for no one could view the tender moment within the thick cloth of the private tent._

_“Yea, I think I do.”_

_He couldn't see Aohi'Vaiune's smile but he could tell that they were, for he could hear the strange irregular hum of their heartstone shift into something warm when they hugged him closer into their chest._

_“I am glad,_ **_whel’jarook_ ** _.”_

————

_whel’jarook..._

_‘Little gator’..._

Bular took a moment to blink in astonishment, considering the possibility for the slightest of moments— **_no_ ** . They were **gone** . And this- this **_thing_ ** couldn't be Aj. it didn’t even smell like the imp- the changeling. and it **_certainly_ ** was not the partling he grew to know. **_because Aj was dead, and people do not come back from such a thing unless-_ **

No.

_No._

It’s impossible!

Bular felt his head spin as new information and possibilities flooded his mind, the very sight of Aj— or whatever dark being had taken their face —made his vision swim. He found himself stumbling out of the clearing, breathing heavily and making unseemly whining noises; but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Something was very wrong here.

——————

_‘Had they dealt with dark beings?_ ’ He thought, watching as the smoothed chunk of low-grit wetstone ran along the silver edge of his blade _‘Maybe… No.’_ if the rumors about the souls of dead trollhunters were true, then that wouldn’t allow anything of that nature to intervene long enough to do any sort of barter.

The gumgum dipped the stone into the murky black water beside him, gazing at his rippling reflection for a moment before roughly taking it out and bringing it once more to the edge of his blade ‘ _It could be a face stealer. or a Copycat…’_ he shook his head. The face stealer he could understand. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally stumbled into the spirit realm while traversing Arcadia’s vast forest; But a _Copycat?_ In _California?_

He’d sooner believe that Aj themself had risen from the grave.

Bular decided to push the thoughts into the back of his mind, thinking about it as much as he has been was starting to distress him. _‘Maybe I was seeing things, how could they possibly still be alive after I cleaved them in two?’_

—————-

The thoughts still gnawed at him throughout the three days and three nights that had passed since he'd been in the clearing. Clouded memories of dusty plains and warrior braids; echoes of war drums, singing swords, and laughter; the faint whispers from their mouth tangling up with another’s as memories combined and connected with each other to form a conclusion that he just couldn’t comprehend.

Aj was not them. They were not Ahoi'Vaiune. Ahoi'Vaiune was pulled into the skies by the ancients long ago.

The memories plagued his dreams in the day, and flooded his mind in the night. slowly absorbing his thought until it was all he could do to keep from tearing into the woods to get to the bottom of what he had seen.

They were gone. He would have noticed.

**_‘Little gator’_ **

**~~_Ahoi’vaiune_~~** Aj

Aj **_~~is~~ _** can’t be Ahoi’vaiune

He couldn’t take it anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look you made it. 
> 
> Bother me on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nomadic-nutcase
> 
> I have no idea what I’m doing.


End file.
